Reception
by Scuttlebutt Inc
Summary: In a happier TYL timeline, after Tsuna and Kyoko's wedding, Gokudera is forced to sort out his own emotions -- including his feelings for both Tsuna and Yamamoto. 80- 59- 27


**Reception** -- Originally Posted 10/16/2007

* * *

The ceremony had be absolutely beautiful. The Tenth looked sharp and somehow, though he'd sworn he was going to throw up half an hour before he took his place in the chapel, he'd made it through the vows with nothing but a beaming smile and steady hands. Kyoko-chan was radiant. And now she had a Vongola ring of her own, though with more diamonds and less flashy fighting techniques.

Gokudera's fingers never faltered as he caressed the piano's keys, a beautiful melody of his own composition --one of his wedding presents for the Tenth and his wife-- and he'd smiled when she stood beside Tsuna and the groom had cast a grateful smile his way.

It was late into the evening now, and the peaceful ceremony had given way to a raucous reception. Almost everyone was full of food and wine and most --Tsuna and Kyoko included-- were wearing holes in the dance floor. Ryohei was-- well he appeared to be attempting an extreme handstand and Lambo --almost 12 now-- was fighting over a piece of cake with a child Gokudera didn't recognize. Lanchia waltzed with young I-pin clutching his arms and balancing on his feet. Thankfully for his stomach, Bianchi didn't appear to be anywhere in sight. Likely off somewhere trying to seduce Reborn into a wedding of their own.

Gokudera himself had retired to the balcony outside, wine glass in hand, for a quiet smoke. He wasn't much for dancing. The loud music and joyful noise from inside blared briefly as the door was opened. It faded just as quickly as Yamamoto let it shut behind him to join his comrade in the cool night air. He was glowing a bit, hair more disheveled than usual with sleeves rolled up and tie askew. Gokudera had seen the work out that Haru had given him on the dance floor -- the young lady seemed to be making her way through all of the men at the reception. Perhaps her reaction to her own loss of Tsuna, as happy as she was for her female friend.

Yamamoto laughed as he came to the railing beside Gokudera, two cold beers in hand, one of which he set between them, leaving it fair game as he opened the other and drank deeply. "She attacked Hibari after me," he explained, grinning.

Gokudera chuckled faintly. "Let's hope the Tenth made him leave his tonfa at home. Or that he's drunk enough to miss." The silver-haired man drained his wine glass, set it aside, took a long drag on his cigarette and cast a glance at the lonely beer. "That for me?"

"Have at it," Yamamoto replied easily, loosening his tie further to let the evening breeze cool his hot skin. "Your playing was amazing at the ceremony, Gokudera," he added, unwarranted.

Beer opened and halfway to his mouth, Gokudera stopped, looked at the dark-haired man standing next to him. "I've been out of practice," he replied, shrugging, never one for gracefully accepting compliments. In truth, the wedding had been his first public performance since the days of poisoned cookies. He'd been more than a little proud to have gotten through it without collapsing. The bottle's rim was cold against his lips and Gokudera took a long drink before leaning out over the railing, staring down into the reflection of the moon in the extravagant pool below. The Ninth's home really was the perfect location for a wedding reception.

"Out of practice!" Yamamoto laughed, turning to join him, letting his bottle dangle from his fingers. "When did you get so humble?" he wondered, then fell silent, giving the other man a moment of peace. Yamamoto smiled softly beside him, just following his gaze, not bothering to engage him for a few minutes. He was honestly a little surprised that Gokudera hadn't told him to go the hell away. He knew it meant that his fireworks-weilding friend needed the company, whether he knew or aknowledged it or not. "He's very happy, isn't he?" he finally said softly.

The smile that graced Gokudera's mouth was just a little sad. "Yeah, he really is." One long swig finished off the last of the beer and his cheeks were faintly pink. He wanted to get really wasted, but the thought of braving that room and all the people he'd rather avoid for various reasons was putting a damper on that plan. "I'm glad," he added, and it wasn't a lie. Gokudera had never been good at hiding his feelings, and the addition of alcohol made him even more readily readable. "Let's go swimming."

"What?" Yamamoto blinked, then laughed. "Are you serious?" Normally there wouldn't be any hesitation -- it sounded fun and he was just a little bit tipsy. But for Gokudera to make such an impulsive suggestion for something fun and to include Yamamoto... well it didn't _worry_ him exactly, but maybe put him at attention. Still though, before waiting for an answer, he wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders and wheeled him around toward the stairs.

When Gokudera left the support of the balcony railing, he began to realize that maybe he was, just a bit more drunk than he'd thought. After all, he didn't shrug off the friendly arm that slung over his shoulders and when he stumbled on the steps, it was into Yamamoto's frame instead of away from him. They managed to reach the lower courtyard with only a few more stumbles and only then did Gokudera slip away from Yamamoto's support to kneel by the pool's edge and dip his fingers into the heated water. "Ah... it's perfect." It was with only a bit of awkwardness that he managed to pry off his dress shoes and toss aside his tie

The taller man on the other hand had no problem kicking off his shoes and before Gokudera could even notice, he launched past him and hit the water in a tight cannonball that drenched Gokudera from the waist down.

"Agh! You asshole!" Gokudera crowed, slapping futilely at his soaking slacks. "I'm gonna kick your ass!" He didn't even wait until Yamamoto's head breached the surface before he was leaping in after him. Grabbing hands found the other man's tie, fought off an arm that tried to hold him under, a battle waged in slow motion with the weight of the water pulling at their clothing. When Gokudera came up for air, he was grinning, his usually immaculate hair a mess of wet tangles.

Yamamoto grinned back, his own short hair plastered to his head and dripping in his eyes. With a quiet surge of water, he kicked forward to press a brief, wet kiss to Gokudera's mouth before he quickly darted away. "Sorry," he said, not sorry at all. "Just something about when you smile." With that, he ducked under the water again, kicking his way to the bottom of the pool.

Gokudera stared after him, a rippling shadow under the dim lights of the pool. He quietly thanked the crescent moon that left it still dark enough to hide the flush that sprang to his cheeks. He tread water for a long moment before lifting a hand to sweep the hair out of his face and dove under the water to follow.

Yamamoto came up first and Gokudera rose up behind him, close enough to wrap his arms around the other man, though he didn't. Instead he grabbed at the back of Yamamoto's shirt, moved to mumble in his ear. "Why do you like me?"

The dark haired man didn't try to turn around, didn't kick away, instead remained still, looking from the corner of his eye though he couldn't quite see Gokudera, hidden in his blind spot. For a long moment he was silent before he shrugged slightly. "Because..." Such a strange, abstract question. "Because you're fun even though you try not to be. And you care deeply even though you don't show it. And you hide how attractive you are behind cigarettes and scowls." Even Yamamoto for all his naivete knew that this was strange, dangerous ground to tread. He hadn't spoken these words, hadn't shared but trystful kisses and lustful touches that they knew somehow Gokudera could handle and Yamamoto could hide behind. But it was a heavy night with so much talk of these sort of things and doors being firmly shut. It loosened his tongue. "I want to see everything you hide."

Gokudera stayed quiet at first, shook his head a little so that damp grey strands stuck to his flushed cheeks and forehead. Those things Yamamoto was saying... so honest that they made his stomach twist and he thought he probably wasn't at all drunk enough for this. His fingers tightened in their hold but he didn't make any move. "I--" he started, fell silent, tried again. "I don't want this to stop." He hesitated, wished he hadn't forgotten to take the cigarettes out of his pocket. They'd be ruined by now. "But I can't tell you any good reason why." The truth was, he told himself, he was selfish. He felt like he'd lost something tonight, something he'd never even had. He didn't want to lose anything else. But it was a selfish desire and he knew it. "I just... don't." It was as honest as he could ever remember being with the dark-haired man. He swallowed a sudden crazy desire to beg Yamamoto's forgiveness. But no, he definitely wasn't drunk enough for that.

Yamamoto reached back, caught one of Gokudera's wrists to pull it over his shoulder. He could feel Yamamoto's smile as he kissed lightly at his fingers. "Don't worry," he said quietly but cheerfully. "Do you think I'd hold out this long to stop now?"

He was sure the words were meant to be reassuring, but Gokudera's ears only burned in shame. Yamamoto had always known he was playing the role of substitution and Gokudera had never bothered to correct him. Even when he'd found himself almost looking forward to their infrequent rendevouz. He never lied... the torch he'd held for Tsuna was obvious to anyone who knew him. But now... now that he'd finally admitted it was time to put it down? Where did that leave -them-? He hadn't been particularly cruel to the other man during this thing that wasn't quite a relationship, but then he'd never been especially kind either.

"You're an idiot," he grumbled, but didn't pull his hand away.

"I know," came Yamamoto's careless reply. He wanted to turn around but knew Gokudera wasn't quite ready for it yet. Instead he shifted his grip, moving Gokudera's arm so that it was wrapped around his middle, holding his hand instead to his chest and forcing him closer against his back. "Is that why you don't like me?" he wondered. Perhaps letting himself be kicked around by his testy friend wasn't something to be respected. But it made him happy, gave him a little taste of what he craved and was denied. So he did it anyway, no mind.

No, Gokudera wanted to say. The reason I don't like you is because you can act so goddamn happy when the one you want clearly likes someone else. It was something he'd never been able to figure out. How he could just smile and keep coming back even when all Gokudera gave him was a scowl and the occasional roll in the hay. "You say I hide behind my anger, right?" he said, not quite pulling away, but refusing to let his forehead rest on Yamamoto's shoulder, though it would have been more comfortable than craning his neck back to avoid the touch. Before Yamamoto could answer, he continued. "Well you hide just as much! Only it's behind stupid smiles and fake laughter!" His voice was pinched, more anger than he'd expected rising in his chest. "I _hate_ it." _I hate what an asshole it makes me..._

Yamamoto was silent for a long moment, letting Gokudera's hand slide out of his grip. "You're so judgmental," he said quietly. "You assume that laughter is fake because you can't bring yourself to do it. Just because something hurts doesn't mean I'm crushed. I'm happy -- I have a good life, I have good friends, even you at least will give me the time of day now and then." Irritation was starting to rise in spite of his optimistic words though. "But you want me to hinge my life on how it hurts to wait for you?" He turned then, not letting Gokudera have his hiding safety anymore, kicking away from him an arms length. "You want me to drop my smile because you can't let go -- because I'll never mean as much to you as Tsuna? Why? If it's a simple reality, why should I torture myself over it? I'm happy to wait and hope -- but you want me to be miserable so you're not alone." The smile in question was nowhere to be seen, a chilling severity replacing it on Yamamoto's expression.

Gokudera gaped, mouth open and throat tight, stomach twisted and painful as though he'd taken a physical blow. It was that day of their fight with Gamma all over again only infinitely more personal and so devastatingly honest that he thought he might be suddenly and violently ill. Or burst into tears. He couldn't seem to bring himself to do either. Or anything else for that matter. How was it even possible for someone like Yamamoto --so naive and carefree and happily vague in everything he said and did-- to speak the truth with such razor-sharp clarity? To catch him at his weakest and blow away every one of his carefully constructed delusions, his selfish ignorance?

"You-- you..." but he couldn't say it. He couldn't stand up against the man who saw right through him with an understanding, a knowledge, that even the Tenth didn't possess. He couldn't tell him he was right.

And so he had to run away. He turned from Yamamoto and his piercing eyes and as quickly as he could, climbed out of the water, choking on his own throat as he stumbled, almost slipped on the cobblestones, his wet clothes and heavy chest weighing down every step. Bianchi had been right all those years ago. It was the only thing he really knew how to do.

As Gokudera took a corner, he very nearly barreled into someone who stumbled to the side to avoid him. "Ah-- Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna blinked at him, I-pin clinging around his neck, sound asleep even through the near-fall. The new groom frowned deeply, shifting his young charge in his arms. "You're soaking wet."

Gokdera stopped short, barely managing to keep his own balance. Tsuna... The Tenth was quite possibly the last person he could handle seeing at that moment, but he swallowed the knot in his throat and schooled his expression into something resembling calm. "Y-yeah. We kind of..." he swore at himself for using the plural, continued quickly lest Tsuna notice his hesitation. "Went swimming..."

A furrowed brow tightened Tsuna's youthful face as he studied his friend intently. "Where are you going?" he finally asked. "It's getting cold."

Gokudera laughed, but the sound was humorless and he shrugged, swiped at his nose with the back of a hand. "I don't know, Tenth. I don't know where I'm going. Somewhere else."

"Come with me?" Tsuna asked, starting down the shallow steps that led down to the garden and ultimately to the east wing where the guests were staying. "I-pin needs to go down... and you need some dry clothes."

Gokudera hesitated; he hadn't gone looking for company and in truth, he was fairly certain he aught to be spending a good long time by himself, alone. But he'd never been good at turning Tsuna down, even now. So finally he nodded and followed.

The guest wing was dim and quiet -- anyone that wasn't still at the reception party was in bed. They parted ways long enough for Tsuna to slip into the room that the younger kids were sharing and tuck I-Pin in. He suspected someone would be bringing Lambo shortly but at the moment, the eleven year old boy had eaten far too much cake and had been terrorizing the guests in a sugared frenzy when Tsuna had stepped away. Tsuna closed the door quietly and headed down the hall to the room that Gokudera and Yamamoto were sharing, waited to be called in after a soft knock. He sank into the thick sofa in the sitting area of the large room as Gokudera finished dressing.

"I wanted to thank you again," he spoke up, if only to break the silence. "For everything. I don't think I would have lived through this." Gokudera had been extremely helpful to him leading up to the wedding -- not surprising, it being Gokudera... but Tsuna had not expressly asked for all of his help and when it came down to it, it turned out he had really needed it, from the moral support to the errand running.

Gokudera slipped a clean shirt on, not bothering to button it up. The wet clothes had been unceremoniously dumped in the bathtub and he did nothing with his hair.

"Of course," he mumbled, standing rather awkwardly in front of the sofa. "You're my boss. And my friend." His bare feet itched to carry him out of the room, away from Tsuna's kind words, but he stayed where he was, hands rummaging idly in his pockets just to have something to do. All he found was a hard little ball of paper fiber-- a note or a receipt perhaps that had unknowingly gone through the wash. He broke it apart with a nail.

The statement brought a soft smile to the would-be mafioso's lips, glad to hear Gokudera acknowledge him as both. With years passed, Tsuna's nerves settling and Gokudera's enthusiasm leveling, therefore Tsuna's fear fading, Tsuna felt that he'd grown able to read his friend better, maybe even understand him a little. And at the moment, that sense was keeping him there. "Gokudera-kun..." Tsuna's eyes were painfully innocent as he caught the silver haired man's gaze, brows lifted. "What's going on?" A tiny smile. Please talk to me.

Gokudera shook his head, a strange tight smile on his lips. A hand found its way into his wet hair, tangled, held. "Nothing, just... I-- I've managed to do something incredibly stupid." He looked down at the floor, not quite able to match Tsuna's gaze for long.

Inwardly Tsuna mused that this wasn't something _completely_ out of the ordinary, although 'incredibly' was usually a bit harsh. He of course didn't give voice to this thought. "It can't be so bad," he tried instead, leaning forward and reaching out to give a light tug at Gokudera's sleeve.  
"What happened?"

Gokudera hesitated, glanced down at the hand holding his sleeve, sighed in defeat. "Do you remember that fight during the whole Millefiore thing... the one that Hibari had to save us from?" He didn't elaborate, Tsuna would know which he meant. "I thought I'd changed since then..."

Tsuna fell into a heavy silence, frowning. Of course he knew. After a long moment he pulled harder, insistent, maybe even a little petulant until Gokudera gave in and sat down. "You have changed since then," Tsuna told him earnestly. "Don't be that hard on yourself."

"No," Gokudera shook his head, though he'd allowed himself to be sat down. "I've been cruel. And the truth is..." he took a breath. He wasn't 14 anymore. He was an adult. "I'm jealous. Of him."

"Jealous...?" Tsuna repeated, watching Gokudera carefully. His next words were something of a gamble, perhaps revealing just how perceptive the young man actually was. "...of Yamamoto?"

Gokudera cringed, eyes squeezing shut and head bowing to meet both fisted hands. He nodded again. "Everything-- everything's so simple for him. What he does, how he-- how he feels..."

"Gokudera-kun..." Tsuna murmured, sympathy etched into his features. He could understand the other man's envy -- even specifically for Yamamoto. Growing up, Yamamoto was what he aspired to be. "Things are... different for him, it seems like, doesn't it?" he agreed, the faintest little smile on Tsuna's lips. "Yamamoto doesn't get angry. Or scared. He does whatever he wants and everyone likes him for it. Doesn't seem fair, huh?" He laughed quietly. "But... simple? I don't know. I think.. maybe because he seems so simple, it may just be more complicated. He doesn't act angry but he still gets hurt. He doesn't act scared but he can still be defeated..."

The silver-haired man was quiet for a time. Then he sighed and dug his fingers into the furrows of his brow, a futile effort to smooth the ever-present worry lines. "I was afraid," he admitted, always surprised at how Tsuna managed to get him to open up, even now. "-And- I felt defeated.  
And... and frustrated because..." Because what? Because Yamamoto's feelings never changed, no matter how awfully Gokudera treated him? Or because he was afraid they would? "Because he's always so..." _right_. "I don't know what to do."

"You should talk to him," Tsuna said bluntly with a soft smile that Gokudera couldn't see. He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You should spend more time with him. Then maybe... you can understand his simpleness. Maybe if you understand it, it won't be so frustrating."

"But..." Gokudera frowned, teeth grinding together briefly, before he let a sigh slip through. "I mean, what if..." What if what? If he got tired of waiting for Gokudera to figure him out? To figure -himself- out? Would he care? The sudden sinking filling in the pit of his stomach said yes and the silver-haired man blinked, surprised despite himself. Gokudera -did- care. He couldn't stand the thought that Yamamoto would ever stop being Yamamoto. And what if the next time this happened, Yamamoto got so fed up that he just left? Just stopped? What if next time he wouldn't forgive him and didn't go back to being the man who always had a smile even for him? What if that was -this- time? The sick feeling in his middle only intensified. "Oh god," he groaned, clutching his stomach. "I just left him out there. In the pool. I just ran away."

"Gokudera-kun--!" Tsuna worried, watching his right hand man grip at his stomach as though Bianchi had appeared. "Please don't worry, I'm sure Yamamoto will understand. If I know Yamamoto, I bet he went back to the party in all his wet clothes and is back to getting drunk." He laughed softly and let a hand rub at Gokudera's back, hoping to sooth his nausea. "Maybe you should lay down for a while... the party will be ending soon."

Gokudera shook his head, for the first time in memeory unable to draw comfort from Tsuna's words. "I gotta... Gotta go find him." Climbing to his feet again only inspired a mild wave of dizziness. Nothing he hadn't pushed past before.

"Gokudera-kun..." Tsuna rose to his feet, catching the other man's arm with a sigh as he wavered a bit. He wasn't going to achieve anything running around in this state. If anything, he was going to go make a scene at the party which could go several directions, likely ending in either explosions or fairly severe humiliation even for someone as strong willed as Gokudera. And also likely, Tsuna would end up dealing with the aftermath which normally he wouldn't hesitate over -- but it was, after all, still his wedding night.

Tsuna caught Gokudera's shoulders as he started forward again, a surprisingly firm hold keeping him tightly in place as Tsuna stepped in front of him. "Listen." He captured Gokudera's gaze with his hazel eyes softly aglow as they did when he called upon the confidence within him. "Lie down. That's an order. Everything will work out."

Gokudera looked up into those eyes, wanted to believe him, wanted to accept that Tsuna would figure everything out. But... A short wheezing whine escaped his throat and he pushed forward against Tsuna's hold, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought another wave of nausea. "Please, Tenth... can't let you... fight my battles. This time I've gotta--"

Tsuna sighed again, shaking his head lightly. He didn't want to have to do this. But gripping one of Gokudera's shoulders, he tightened a fist and landed a quick, solid blow just below Gokudera's ribs. The taller man barely had a second to register the pain before he was crumpling into Tsuna's arms.

When Gokudera woke, he was lying on his bed with a cool wet cloth over his eyes. It took a long moment for consciousness to fully register. He groaned faintly, instinct bringing a hand to his face, fingers grazing the edge of the cloth, pulling it away, blinking into the blessedly dark room. His head throbbed and his stomach felt bruised. As memory came flooding back, Gokudera sat upright with a start, got halfway out of bed before his body's weakness caught up with him. He collapsed to his knees beside the bed, one hand gripping the side table for support as he waited for his stomach to quiet, for his head to stop swimming. He didn't seem to notice the faint light leaking from the bathroom or the sound of running water.

Meanwhile his room mate heard the sound and leaned back to look from the bathroom door, alarmed at the sight of Gokudera doubled over. Leaving the water running, he hurried to the other's side. "Mmph--" His toothbrush was still in his mouth along with a mouthful of toothpaste suds. He slid an arm under Gokudera's and across his shoulders, firmly hoisting him back up until he was at least sitting on the edge of the bed. "Mmph?" he asked, concern creasing his brow.

Gokudera glanced briefly at the taller man's face, grimaced and looked away in pain but mostly in shame. Now that they were both here, in the same shared space, the dynamite-user couldn't remember what he'd hoped to accomplish by running after Yamamoto. He felt sick and drained and ashamed that even now, the dark-haired man was showing him concern when just... hours? before he'd... "I-- I'm..." What? Fine? Okay? He didn't feel particularly okay. And he didn't particularly feel like lying either. "...such an idiot." His face felt hot against the skin of his palms and he close his eyes, back bent in a deep slouch.

Yamamoto didn't make a sound to protest, nor did he make any other sound. He didn't leave to finish his bed-readying tasks. Fingers started to reach, to touch Gokudera's hair, to sooth him but then balled into a tight fist at his side instead. Silent.

Gokudera swallowed hard around the knot in his throat, one hand dropping to his lap, his fingers digging hard into his middle, willing his unruly stomach to settle. His face flamed with heat, some combination of fever and shame. "You-- you were right." He grimaced around the words, what little remained of his pride still hating to make the admission. "I... couldn't share your happiness because... I only knew how to envy it. -You-." The words came with difficulty, and every sentence made his stomach churn, but he forced himself to say them. "Maybe... maybe you're a fool for waiting, but I-- I'm an unbelievable asshole for taking it for granted." He leaned forward again, his forehead almost touching his knees, certain he was going to be very sick very soon.

In his squinted vision, Yamamoto's feet moved away and he heard him in the bathroom, spit and turn off the still running water. When he returned, his weight sank down beside Gokudera and he pried one of Gokudera's clutching hands away from his stomach to press a cold glass of water into it. Still silent, Yamamoto's own hand, still cool, came to his neck, rubbing gently at tense muscle.

Gokudera's hand shook, sloshing water onto his knees, but he couldn't bring himself to drink. Yamamoto's continued silence was unnerving him and he was torn between vomiting, bursting into decidedly unmanly tears or continuing to say things that he'd probably regret in the morning. After a shaky breath, he chose the later. "I know I shouldn't've run... but... fuck, Yama-- you scare the shit out of me." _Now more than ever, because I can't tell what's going on in that head of yours._

Yamamoto's wide hand closed over Gokudera's quivering one, holding it steady. "It's okay," he finally spoke, his voice just as steady as his hand. His hand slid from Gokudera's neck, instead to curl around his shoulders slowly, pulling him gently closer. Only when he was pressing his forehead into Gokudera's mussed silver hair could he hear the tremble in Yamamoto's breath. And then droplets were falling across their hands that didn't come from the glass.

Gokudera sucked in a startled breath, at Yamamoto's words, at his touch, at the emotion radiating from the normally calm man. The glass of water fell from his numb fingers, hitting the floor between their feet with a dull sloshing thump. "Ya-Yamamoto?" he ventured, fear etched into his brow as he turned his face toward the other man. Had he said the wrong thing again?

Strong arms folded around Gokudera's slighter frame, pulling him against Yamamoto's chest and only allowing him a brief glimpse of the tears that streamed down his cheeks. For a moment he was quiet again, unable to do anything but cry almost silently, cheek pressed against Gokudera's hair. "You weren't completely wrong," he finally managed to murmur. "Maybe sometimes my smile is fake... but..." His arms tightened around Gokudera's shoulders. "What am I supposed to do? I just... I can't give up... Sometimes..." His breath shuddered. "Sometimes I just want to kiss you so hard that all you'll be able to see is me."

Somehow, impossibly, with Yamamoto crushing him against his chest, Gokudera found that breathing was a little easier. "For a long time... I only had enough courage to let one person into my heart," he murmured, his mouth almost touching Yamamoto's throat. "For an even longer time before that I wouldn't let -anyone-." He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. "I used to think that nothing could hurt as much as unreturned feelings. But... tonight, when you... when I left... I-- was..." _Eight years old and alone all over again. So afraid you'd given up on me..._

It didn't seem possible that Yamamoto's arms could wrap tighter around him but somehow they did, briefly before he eased a little so he didn't break Gokudera's clavicle. Then he was laughing softly, shudderingly into Gokudera's hair. "I like Gokudera even when he's really mad," he said quietly. "Because then he says the things he's really thinking. That's what I want... why I don't give up even when it does hurt. I want to break through... I want to make you smile even if it means making you really angry for a long time first."

"I-- I'm not angry, idiot." Gokudera mumbled, the bridge of his nose near crushed against Yamamoto's collar. It was an odd emotion that welled in his chest then, half-closing his throat and for a while he couldn't speak. When he did, his hands lifted, grabbed at the back of Yamamoto's t-shirt. "Dammit," he groused, sniffling, "You're making me feel like an awkward teenager again."

This brought a fresh laugh to Yamamoto's throat, this one less laden with emotion. He lifted a hand to thread his fingers in Gokudera's hair, nuzzling into it. They both still smelled of chlorine and the other's longer hair was even still a tiny bit damp. "I'm sorry," he chuckled. "Sometimes though -- maybe it's good?" He ducked his head then, eyes closed as he brushed the bridge of his nose against Gokudera's, his chest feeling so tight he couldn't bring himself to do anything more. "Sometimes it's good to be defenseless..."

"I hate it," Gokudera groused, but there was no real passion behind the words and his cheeks flushed with color at Yamamoto's gentle, tentative attention. After a moment filled with Yamamoto's quiet laughter, Gokudera tilted his chin upward, hesitated, looked away and then back again, his lips just barely brushing the taller man's.

Brown eyes blinked open, surprise evident on his face as Gokudera's lips touched his so lightly. His hands on the other's back trembled faintly before he steeled himself and swallowed hard. He couldn't recall a time that Gokudera had given that first touch, willingly, without convincing... And overcome with it, Yamamoto's return was just as soft, hesitant.

"I--" Gokudera began, his breath hot on Yamamoto's mouth. "I'm no good for you..." Another kiss, as light as the first and he spoke again before the other man could object. "But if you aren't too fed up with me yet.. I-- I think I could be."

Yamamoto's eyes were bright, unfettered with the conflict or the anger that Gokudera had seen in them earlier. Cheeks were brightly pink as he moved a hand to touch Gokudera's face gently. Then those eyes holding his glazed a little and for a moment Gokudera thought it might be out of intense emotion -- that is until his arms went limp and legs gave out and the athletic man slid off the bed in a very undignified manner.

"Ah!" Gokudera lept to his feet, startled, before dropping to his knees beside the other man. "Yamamoto! Are you okay?" He laid a hand against Yamamoto's check, frowning, then touched his forehead. "You idiot," he grumbled, then slid an arm under the feverish man's shoulder, lifting him with surprising ease back onto the bed where he slumped into Gokudera's lap. "Just how long did you stay in those wet clothes?" he asked, only a little guiltily.

"Um," Yamamoto stated intelligently, consciousness fading back in. He looked at his wrist. He wasn't wearing a watch. He could kind of make out the numbers on the clock. "Three hours?" he estimated. "I drank a lot so I wasn't very cold," he amended.

"Dumbass," Gokudera chided, easing out from under the other man to guide him up onto the pillow and tug the sheet over his legs. His own stomachache forgotten, it didn't take long to wring out the cloth that Tsuna had left with him and dampen it again to lay across Yamamoto's forehead. Then, with only a moment of hesitation, he crawled into the bed beside him and lay a calloused hand on Yamamoto's heated cheek. "Don't get used to this, stupid. The next time you do something dumb like that, you're taking care of your own sick ass." Gokudera was smiling.

Outside of the constriction of emotion, exhaustion was starting to overtake Yamamoto, along with his head reeling from fever and his vision blurring from alcohol. He realized in some corner of his mind that when he woke up, there would be a world of hurt waiting for him. But at the moment, his eyes managed to focus on Gokudera's face smiling at him and he smiled back. It wasn't the standard Yamamoto smile but rather a deep, warm smile that made tears shine in his eyes until he pulled Gokudera against him so that he wouldn't see when they spilled. "I'm very cold," he murmured. "I think you need to stay here to keep me warm."

"Stupid," Gokudera mumbled again, but the word was gentle, almost affectionate. He didn't even balk when Yamamoto tugged him close, instead letting an arm circle around his shoulders, a kiss buried somewhere in tousled black hair. "I'm not going anywhere." Not this time. He was done running away from everything. It was time to run toward something.

Yamamoto wrapped an arm around Gokudera's waist, the cloth on his head sliding away as he nuzzled unabashedly into the other man's chest. "Gokudera... is very handsome... when he smiles..." he murmured, breath slowing with each word until his voice faded into silence.

The silver-haired man said nothing, waiting as Yamamoto settled and finally slept. They stayed like that, Yamamoto tucked beneath his chin, for some time, Gokudera laying quietly and listening to the other man's breathing. "You're a liar," he finally murmured, never one to take a compliment gracefully, but his nose was in Yamamoto's hair and his hand lay at the back of his neck and he was still smiling anyway. "But thank you. Yamamoto."


End file.
